Slept late again, but not as grotesquely so as I have been; was up at about 7:15.
I can barely remember what I did yesterday until picking up Aline and getting to the theatre...
Oh, that's right: I went to the thrift store and picked up two blouses, as I wanted more front-buttoned ones. However, I saw a pullover I liked, and got that, too. I spent a whopping $2.60 on them--for both, that is, as they were having a twenty percent off day.
Last night's performance went well, I think, but I was unaccountably nervous, maybe because my daughter, niece, and her husband and son were there. It was great fun greeting them in the lobby after the performance. The audience was larger than on other nights, but still very sparse, I'm afraid. I'm beginning to think the venue--Surflight Theatre, of which we were so excited to contemplate--is one of the problems. It's simply so far away from Little Egg, that many who might ordinarily come, decide against it.
We close after today's performance and as ever, I'm sighing over that. After all the months of preparation: memorizing the dialogue, working out the blocking, rehearsing over and over, dealing with costumes, makeup, props, and all the other items, large and small, involved in putting on a play. This includes the spats and annoyances and back-biting here and there that seem to go on during every production; this time, luckily, I stayed above the fray, angel of concordance that I am.
So long, Hedda, and hello, Miss Back to Normal Life.
Sunday, April 06, 2014
Saturday, April 05, 2014
Cast Party
Oh, gawd, am I hung over!
Well, I'm exaggerating a bit, but I did have a lot of wine at the cast party last night. I have no idea what time I got home, but considering we didn't leave Surflight until well after 11:00, and stayed more or less to the end of the party, it must have been about two am. Was awakened by a phone call from Betty at--get this--10:45 this morning!
"Hedda" went well, although, disappointingly, the audience again was sparse. My pal, Vivian L., was there, that sweet thing (I met her through WellSpouse) and so were Maureen and Carl K., which reminds me--ugh--that I still have to write that profile on them.
I was thrilled that Grey L. was there, all the way from Margate. He had first been cast as "George," my nephew, but came down with a lingering illness and had to withdraw. He was greeted with enthusiasm by the rest of the cast--aside from Neil, that is--and we all had a fine time together at the cast party.
Mary and Jim really do about the best parties around. Of course, they have the perfect venue for it: a very large all-purpose room with a huge fireplace and big bar stocked with every version of wine, beer, and hard stuff imaginable. Laid out there were shrimp, salmon, deviled eggs, nuts, chips, dips, and innumerable other nibbles. A wide doorway leads to the kitchen, which is equipped with a wood-burning stove and huge island. Here there was a big cake with "Congratulations to the Cast and Crew of Hedda Gabler," along with cheesecake, chocolates, and several varieties of cookies.
Earlier--this entry runs backward, it seems--Aline and I went to Dynasty for lunch. I felt I needed an outing after keeping my nose to the theatrical grindstone all this time and we enjoyed it.
So two more performances, then back to real life. I'll miss Hedda, but certainly won't miss that interminable drive to and from LBI.
Well, I'm exaggerating a bit, but I did have a lot of wine at the cast party last night. I have no idea what time I got home, but considering we didn't leave Surflight until well after 11:00, and stayed more or less to the end of the party, it must have been about two am. Was awakened by a phone call from Betty at--get this--10:45 this morning!
"Hedda" went well, although, disappointingly, the audience again was sparse. My pal, Vivian L., was there, that sweet thing (I met her through WellSpouse) and so were Maureen and Carl K., which reminds me--ugh--that I still have to write that profile on them.
I was thrilled that Grey L. was there, all the way from Margate. He had first been cast as "George," my nephew, but came down with a lingering illness and had to withdraw. He was greeted with enthusiasm by the rest of the cast--aside from Neil, that is--and we all had a fine time together at the cast party.
Mary and Jim really do about the best parties around. Of course, they have the perfect venue for it: a very large all-purpose room with a huge fireplace and big bar stocked with every version of wine, beer, and hard stuff imaginable. Laid out there were shrimp, salmon, deviled eggs, nuts, chips, dips, and innumerable other nibbles. A wide doorway leads to the kitchen, which is equipped with a wood-burning stove and huge island. Here there was a big cake with "Congratulations to the Cast and Crew of Hedda Gabler," along with cheesecake, chocolates, and several varieties of cookies.
Earlier--this entry runs backward, it seems--Aline and I went to Dynasty for lunch. I felt I needed an outing after keeping my nose to the theatrical grindstone all this time and we enjoyed it.
So two more performances, then back to real life. I'll miss Hedda, but certainly won't miss that interminable drive to and from LBI.
Friday, April 04, 2014
Opening Night!
Went to Manahawkin early and got two button-front blouses because I don't want to try to get a top on and off over the wig I have to wear. I always wear a camisole and half-slip when I'm in a play, too, as actors--including yours truly--are often careless about closing dressing room doors.
Amy came again to affix my wig and, this time, it was much more comfortable and more natural looking, too. Picked up Aline at the Stafford Library at 5:00 and off we went. Helped Aline put up the head shots in the lobby, then went backstage and Shannon, the makeup lady, did my face. I dressed, took a deep breath and stood ready in the wings waiting for opening night--showtime!
It went well, aside from one or two little blips. Of course, since the audience didn't notice, they didn't matter, anyway. One was a few minutes in, when "George" (Tony) and "Aunt Julia" (that's me, folks) are talking. Somehow, either he or I skipped over a line and we found ourselves further along than we should have been; had to back-track, but we did it smoothly and it wasn't noticeable to the audience. Later, I heard from "Thea" (Kathy) that something similar happened when she was on with "Judge Brack" (Neil), but they covered okay, too.
After our curtain calls, as had been planned, we sat on the stage and answered questions from the audience. They had some good ones and it was so enjoyable to listen, respond, and discuss the play, Ibsen, and general theatre topics.
Very late night, of course: It was well after eleven when I dropped Aline off, and almost one by the time I got to bed. Slept until 9:20, which boggles my mind.
Betty just called to say she and her group (a total of eight) will have dinner after the matinee. I said I'd join them (Aline, too, of course), so that should be fun.
Amy came again to affix my wig and, this time, it was much more comfortable and more natural looking, too. Picked up Aline at the Stafford Library at 5:00 and off we went. Helped Aline put up the head shots in the lobby, then went backstage and Shannon, the makeup lady, did my face. I dressed, took a deep breath and stood ready in the wings waiting for opening night--showtime!
It went well, aside from one or two little blips. Of course, since the audience didn't notice, they didn't matter, anyway. One was a few minutes in, when "George" (Tony) and "Aunt Julia" (that's me, folks) are talking. Somehow, either he or I skipped over a line and we found ourselves further along than we should have been; had to back-track, but we did it smoothly and it wasn't noticeable to the audience. Later, I heard from "Thea" (Kathy) that something similar happened when she was on with "Judge Brack" (Neil), but they covered okay, too.
After our curtain calls, as had been planned, we sat on the stage and answered questions from the audience. They had some good ones and it was so enjoyable to listen, respond, and discuss the play, Ibsen, and general theatre topics.
Very late night, of course: It was well after eleven when I dropped Aline off, and almost one by the time I got to bed. Slept until 9:20, which boggles my mind.
Betty just called to say she and her group (a total of eight) will have dinner after the matinee. I said I'd join them (Aline, too, of course), so that should be fun.
Thursday, April 03, 2014
Dress Rehearsal
Went to the thrift store and found a good pair of lacy lady gloves to cover my rings in the first act. Stopped at the library to de-dress the display window--I had reserved it only for March--and there, wouldn't you know, were the lanterns I had searched for so frantically. I had completely forgotten I used them in the library. Did other stuff, none of which is worthy of more than an ho-hum.
Amy, the wig woman--that has a ring to it, doesn't it?--came at 3:30 to put the piece on. The wig, white with a bun, looks okay, but damn, it's uncomfortable. It feels as if I have a very tight hat jammed on my head. It has to be anchored securely, though, because of "George" taking it off to admire. In addition, Mark, the sound guy, said my microphone should go under the wig, which can't happen since it's so tight. It worked okay to have it over, though, so we'll leave it at that. Amy will be back today to do her thing again.
Picked up Aline at 5:15 and got to Surflight before 6:00, just as Desi was walking in, too. We settled in, and soon the rest of the cast and crew came.
Dress rehearsal was probably a shade more brisk (that's good, not bad!) than earlier run-throughs and I wasn't aware of any gross disasters. The makeup lady, Shannon, did a nice job on my face, especially the eyes, and I was able to adjust my skirt--upward--so I didn't run the risk of actually tripping on it. I had some minor problems: Mary thought I should be wearing a shawl and I chose a pretty black one which kept sliding off me. I had to keep adjusting and putting it back, which Jim, in the three-person "audience" told me was distracting. Brittany offered to help me secure it tonight, so the problem will be solved that way. I'd prefer to go without it, but my character is supposed to be coming in on a cool September morning, so best not.
I have a long, long wait between the first and fourth acts, the only ones in which I appear, so I brought my Tablet and played games and read while waiting. The Tablet came with Jack London's Call of the Wild and, although I'm the world's least avid dog-lover, started re-reading and enjoying it. I'm not sure if London is studied or read much nowadays, but he really was a superb writer. Must remember to bring the Tablet tonight.
Didn't get home after dropping Aline off, until 11:30. It took me an age to get the damn wig off, as Amy has used 42 bobby pins to secure it, even with the skull cap underneath. Okay, I'll live with it if I don't have to worry about it sliding off.
I was glad to hear the play ran only a bit less than three hours last night, and that was after we delayed the start by about ten minutes, but without intermission. It's still fearfully long and the wordy dialogue ain't goin' nowhere, but it is what it is, and in less than eleven hours: WE OPEN!
Amy, the wig woman--that has a ring to it, doesn't it?--came at 3:30 to put the piece on. The wig, white with a bun, looks okay, but damn, it's uncomfortable. It feels as if I have a very tight hat jammed on my head. It has to be anchored securely, though, because of "George" taking it off to admire. In addition, Mark, the sound guy, said my microphone should go under the wig, which can't happen since it's so tight. It worked okay to have it over, though, so we'll leave it at that. Amy will be back today to do her thing again.
Picked up Aline at 5:15 and got to Surflight before 6:00, just as Desi was walking in, too. We settled in, and soon the rest of the cast and crew came.
Dress rehearsal was probably a shade more brisk (that's good, not bad!) than earlier run-throughs and I wasn't aware of any gross disasters. The makeup lady, Shannon, did a nice job on my face, especially the eyes, and I was able to adjust my skirt--upward--so I didn't run the risk of actually tripping on it. I had some minor problems: Mary thought I should be wearing a shawl and I chose a pretty black one which kept sliding off me. I had to keep adjusting and putting it back, which Jim, in the three-person "audience" told me was distracting. Brittany offered to help me secure it tonight, so the problem will be solved that way. I'd prefer to go without it, but my character is supposed to be coming in on a cool September morning, so best not.
I have a long, long wait between the first and fourth acts, the only ones in which I appear, so I brought my Tablet and played games and read while waiting. The Tablet came with Jack London's Call of the Wild and, although I'm the world's least avid dog-lover, started re-reading and enjoying it. I'm not sure if London is studied or read much nowadays, but he really was a superb writer. Must remember to bring the Tablet tonight.
Didn't get home after dropping Aline off, until 11:30. It took me an age to get the damn wig off, as Amy has used 42 bobby pins to secure it, even with the skull cap underneath. Okay, I'll live with it if I don't have to worry about it sliding off.
I was glad to hear the play ran only a bit less than three hours last night, and that was after we delayed the start by about ten minutes, but without intermission. It's still fearfully long and the wordy dialogue ain't goin' nowhere, but it is what it is, and in less than eleven hours: WE OPEN!
Joe The Jerk And So On
Got in touch with Amy, the hair person, and she said she'd come to my house tomorrow about 4:30 to "do" the wig and show me how for later. However, Tonya e-mailed that Amy would be doing Brittany's hair at 4:30. A further complication--which life and show biz are full of, it seems--is that I told Aline I'd pick her up after she finished work at 4:00 and take her to dress rehearsal. There's no problem if she has to wait for me, but I'd still rather Amy came earlier. Have a call into her.
Joe the Jerk--oops, sorry, our publicist--put another "teaser," as he calls them, on the LETCO site. Again, this is of Ellen V. and me and we have the least important roles. Also, he obviously just stuck it on as is, as he included the end, which has me addressing Frank and he answering, which is not, of course, part of the play. I doubt if he even looked at it.
I'm sorry I looked at it, in fact. I hate, hate, hate seeing myself even in still pictures, let alone moving ones, especially from the side which my terrible wattle shows up so prominently. Of course, most of this crappy piece is from the side, wouldn't you know.
Well, I did get some of the stuff on the guest room beds that I had cleared out of the closet put away again, so that was an upper.
Saw Susan removing leaves from her flower bed and went over to chat and tell her I wasn't going to walk until Monday. I got home after ten and we did only the first half of act four. Soon, I may not be in until as late as eleven and I just can't go right to bed. Must stay up at least for an hour to unwind with popcorn and iced tea (I not longer have wine at night).
Joe the Jerk--oops, sorry, our publicist--put another "teaser," as he calls them, on the LETCO site. Again, this is of Ellen V. and me and we have the least important roles. Also, he obviously just stuck it on as is, as he included the end, which has me addressing Frank and he answering, which is not, of course, part of the play. I doubt if he even looked at it.
I'm sorry I looked at it, in fact. I hate, hate, hate seeing myself even in still pictures, let alone moving ones, especially from the side which my terrible wattle shows up so prominently. Of course, most of this crappy piece is from the side, wouldn't you know.
Well, I did get some of the stuff on the guest room beds that I had cleared out of the closet put away again, so that was an upper.
Saw Susan removing leaves from her flower bed and went over to chat and tell her I wasn't going to walk until Monday. I got home after ten and we did only the first half of act four. Soon, I may not be in until as late as eleven and I just can't go right to bed. Must stay up at least for an hour to unwind with popcorn and iced tea (I not longer have wine at night).
Wednesday, April 02, 2014
All Hedda
Now it's all Hedda, all the time. We finally did the full run last night--for the first time at Surflight--but without an intermission, it ran until 11:00. Granted, we started late and Desi addressed us after, but still--. I cringe at the thought of my seventyish friends sitting through this and just hope the snores don't overwhelm the dialogue.
This is a deep, psychological drama--probably the least favorite theatrical experience among my contemporaries--and there are subtleties that are imperative to grasp. Unfortunately, it's very talky which, of all damming features, seems the worse. Months back when we were having the heated discussion* about whether to cut it or not--and the non-cutters won--I wish we cut-favorers had held out longer. The first act is very long and the second and third acts, in particular, seem to drag on interminably. They could have--and should have, if you ask me--been consolidated into one act.
Well, there are some bright spots, notably the mikes. The only other time I was wired up was in Arsenic last year, in this very theatre. The mouthpiece was taped to the face--very uncomfortable and also problematic because it had more places to snag on. The wire (which is put under the clothes, of course) runs to the battery pack and I was emphatically told by Our Gang people that it had to go on my back.
But no: Last night, Mark, the sound and light guy, told me those mikes were owned by Our Gang, and just happened to be the style they chose. What we're using belong to Surflight and are much more comfortable. The battery can be placed (in its cloth pouch and velcro "belt") anywhere the actor prefers. I put mine at my side, much better for sitting down. What's more, the mouthpiece (really just a tiny extension of the wire) in this version is anchored in the hair (or in my case, the wig), so much less intrusive and more comfortable.
Another concern for the cast is the small stage, which means that, with the necessary furniture, it's awkward to move around, especially upstage. We have to plan our blocking with care so it doesn't look awkward.
Amy, the hair/wig person, will be at my place at 3:30 today, then I'll pick Aline up in Manahawkin after.
Oh me, oh my, let's fervently hope this thing comes off before the length of it empties the theatre. Dress rehearsal tonight.
* From my January 26 entry:
Did a lot of e-mailing back and forth over whether we should do some revision on Hedda--especially act one, which is talky and repetitive. Geez, it's a three hour play as it stands (plus intermission) and Grey sensibly suggested cutting. Neil then got on his high horse and exhibited his usual stance of nobleman against the peasants, arguing passionately that the great writer couldn't be treated that way and it's a sacrilege (well, he didn't use that word), and so on and so forth. I pointed out that almost all writers have editors and that plays are routinely revised, sometimes drastically (e.g., Night Must Fall). I found on-line that Hedda itself has been staged in altered versions--at least once, as a lesbian drama and at Princeton U., Hedda was changed into a man--talk about revision. Anyway, it's so satisfying to be in a position where I can argue back and forth with like-minded people, whether they agree with me or not.
This is a deep, psychological drama--probably the least favorite theatrical experience among my contemporaries--and there are subtleties that are imperative to grasp. Unfortunately, it's very talky which, of all damming features, seems the worse. Months back when we were having the heated discussion* about whether to cut it or not--and the non-cutters won--I wish we cut-favorers had held out longer. The first act is very long and the second and third acts, in particular, seem to drag on interminably. They could have--and should have, if you ask me--been consolidated into one act.
Well, there are some bright spots, notably the mikes. The only other time I was wired up was in Arsenic last year, in this very theatre. The mouthpiece was taped to the face--very uncomfortable and also problematic because it had more places to snag on. The wire (which is put under the clothes, of course) runs to the battery pack and I was emphatically told by Our Gang people that it had to go on my back.
But no: Last night, Mark, the sound and light guy, told me those mikes were owned by Our Gang, and just happened to be the style they chose. What we're using belong to Surflight and are much more comfortable. The battery can be placed (in its cloth pouch and velcro "belt") anywhere the actor prefers. I put mine at my side, much better for sitting down. What's more, the mouthpiece (really just a tiny extension of the wire) in this version is anchored in the hair (or in my case, the wig), so much less intrusive and more comfortable.
Another concern for the cast is the small stage, which means that, with the necessary furniture, it's awkward to move around, especially upstage. We have to plan our blocking with care so it doesn't look awkward.
Amy, the hair/wig person, will be at my place at 3:30 today, then I'll pick Aline up in Manahawkin after.
Oh me, oh my, let's fervently hope this thing comes off before the length of it empties the theatre. Dress rehearsal tonight.
* From my January 26 entry:
Did a lot of e-mailing back and forth over whether we should do some revision on Hedda--especially act one, which is talky and repetitive. Geez, it's a three hour play as it stands (plus intermission) and Grey sensibly suggested cutting. Neil then got on his high horse and exhibited his usual stance of nobleman against the peasants, arguing passionately that the great writer couldn't be treated that way and it's a sacrilege (well, he didn't use that word), and so on and so forth. I pointed out that almost all writers have editors and that plays are routinely revised, sometimes drastically (e.g., Night Must Fall). I found on-line that Hedda itself has been staged in altered versions--at least once, as a lesbian drama and at Princeton U., Hedda was changed into a man--talk about revision. Anyway, it's so satisfying to be in a position where I can argue back and forth with like-minded people, whether they agree with me or not.
Tuesday, April 01, 2014
Hedda And Problems
Slept until 8:15, incredibly. I was glad Susan had a doctor's appointment up north and couldn't walk anyway, but I doubt if I would have, considering I didn't get to bed until almost midnight.
Yesterday, Aline called early and after chatting a bit, asked if I would lend her a tablecloth (she'll staff a sign-up table in the Surflight lobby) and also, pick her up for dress rehearsal tomorrow night, as well as for all performances. I will, but I was a little less than cheerful about it, thinking I'll have a car full of stuff and a lot on my mind. However, I took almost everything last night, so it shouldn't be a problem.
Aside from going to the only jewelry store nearby to see if somebody could get my engagement ring off--they were closed--I didn't do a lot but prepare for rehearsal, the first time we were able to do it at Surflight. I gathered up a multitude of items, including my fancy hat from the first act, all my mourning clothes, various and sundry other clothing items, and the "Victorian bride" picture I had printed out and put in the frame holding my own wedding portrait.
Although this wasn't dress rehearsal, I wore my "Aunt Martha" outfit from Arsenic, as it includes a long skirt, and I wanted to get used to that again on stage.
Wanted to get there early, but as I was about to leave, got a call from Ellen V. and we commiserated with each other, as we both have beefs, especially with Desi's direction--or lack of it.
This is par for the course so close to opening, when we bemoan various problems, but it usually proves to be just letting off steam and all is forgotten when the curtain rises.
It's a long way to Surflight, as you have to go to Manahawkin, then over the causeway, then drove a good twelve or so miles down the island to reach it. Got there about 5:30 to find only Bob N., who was working on the set. Tonya, his wife and our treasurer, came shortly after, with Amy, a hairdresser who kindly agreed to do hair.
What about mine? Neil finally came through with a grey wig which cascaded outward in curls and had some tiny braids in it. The color is appropriate for my character, a Victorian maiden lady, but the style certainly not, and Amy set to work on it. In a remarkably short time, she fashioned a bun-in-the-back and it looked perfect for Aunt Julia.
However, I was taken aback to see the outfit Tara had gotten from the rental agency--PINK! My fancy hat--which is important in a minor way to establishing Hedda's character--is in shades of olive, black, and gold, so doesn't go with it at all. Everybody thought it looked good, though, and Kathy offered to put a pink ribbon in it, so I guess it'll be okay.
I wore the outfit for rehearsal and the disaster I feared actually happened: the wig slid off my head, not while "George" was removing it, but a bit later. I simply took it off and left it on the coffee table when I exited. Tonya said she'd give me Amy's number, so I'll call and see if I can have her anchor it better.
Tony, who plays George, borrowed my script the minute I walked in and he still isn't entirely off-book. This is incredible--and horrifying--considering we open in three days. I asked him why he didn't have a script and he said, "I don't know." At times, Tony seems really peculiar, although he's okay in my scenes with him. There were a few other problems last night, technical and otherwise, but this is par for the course in a play and I'm confident they'll be remedied by Thursday. The one major problem, though, can't be remedied at this late date: With apologies to Henrik Ibsen, Hedda Gabler is too damn long. As Grey L., our original George, and I argued, we should have cut it. It's wordy and repetitive and when the audience falls asleep in their chairs, we're going to be sorry we didn't. But hey, it is what it is, and now I'm getting happily excited about being on stage again.
Speaking--or writing--of "long," this is a dreadfully long post, but "is what it is," too, so shoot me.
Yesterday, Aline called early and after chatting a bit, asked if I would lend her a tablecloth (she'll staff a sign-up table in the Surflight lobby) and also, pick her up for dress rehearsal tomorrow night, as well as for all performances. I will, but I was a little less than cheerful about it, thinking I'll have a car full of stuff and a lot on my mind. However, I took almost everything last night, so it shouldn't be a problem.
Aside from going to the only jewelry store nearby to see if somebody could get my engagement ring off--they were closed--I didn't do a lot but prepare for rehearsal, the first time we were able to do it at Surflight. I gathered up a multitude of items, including my fancy hat from the first act, all my mourning clothes, various and sundry other clothing items, and the "Victorian bride" picture I had printed out and put in the frame holding my own wedding portrait.
Although this wasn't dress rehearsal, I wore my "Aunt Martha" outfit from Arsenic, as it includes a long skirt, and I wanted to get used to that again on stage.
Wanted to get there early, but as I was about to leave, got a call from Ellen V. and we commiserated with each other, as we both have beefs, especially with Desi's direction--or lack of it.
This is par for the course so close to opening, when we bemoan various problems, but it usually proves to be just letting off steam and all is forgotten when the curtain rises.
It's a long way to Surflight, as you have to go to Manahawkin, then over the causeway, then drove a good twelve or so miles down the island to reach it. Got there about 5:30 to find only Bob N., who was working on the set. Tonya, his wife and our treasurer, came shortly after, with Amy, a hairdresser who kindly agreed to do hair.
What about mine? Neil finally came through with a grey wig which cascaded outward in curls and had some tiny braids in it. The color is appropriate for my character, a Victorian maiden lady, but the style certainly not, and Amy set to work on it. In a remarkably short time, she fashioned a bun-in-the-back and it looked perfect for Aunt Julia.
However, I was taken aback to see the outfit Tara had gotten from the rental agency--PINK! My fancy hat--which is important in a minor way to establishing Hedda's character--is in shades of olive, black, and gold, so doesn't go with it at all. Everybody thought it looked good, though, and Kathy offered to put a pink ribbon in it, so I guess it'll be okay.
I wore the outfit for rehearsal and the disaster I feared actually happened: the wig slid off my head, not while "George" was removing it, but a bit later. I simply took it off and left it on the coffee table when I exited. Tonya said she'd give me Amy's number, so I'll call and see if I can have her anchor it better.
Tony, who plays George, borrowed my script the minute I walked in and he still isn't entirely off-book. This is incredible--and horrifying--considering we open in three days. I asked him why he didn't have a script and he said, "I don't know." At times, Tony seems really peculiar, although he's okay in my scenes with him. There were a few other problems last night, technical and otherwise, but this is par for the course in a play and I'm confident they'll be remedied by Thursday. The one major problem, though, can't be remedied at this late date: With apologies to Henrik Ibsen, Hedda Gabler is too damn long. As Grey L., our original George, and I argued, we should have cut it. It's wordy and repetitive and when the audience falls asleep in their chairs, we're going to be sorry we didn't. But hey, it is what it is, and now I'm getting happily excited about being on stage again.
Speaking--or writing--of "long," this is a dreadfully long post, but "is what it is," too, so shoot me.
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